


Hello, Satan!

by Vaniss



Category: Original Work
Genre: Demons, Ghosts, Hell, Horror, M/M, Ouija Board, Satan - Freeform, Supernatural - Freeform, kms why am I writing this, o shit waddup its ya boi Satan, please appreciate my efforts, supernatural horror
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-19 23:23:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15520977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vaniss/pseuds/Vaniss
Summary: Hi, my name is Oliver and I guess you're wondering what the hell I did. Well, it's kind of a long story, but I guess I'm Satan now so... yay?





	1. Jordan Is A Little Bitch, Confirmed.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think in the comments below, give a Kudos if you enjoyed it, and thank you so much! I hope to update this as often as I can in my schedule :)

I guess this story begins rather stupidly? I know, I've made a ton of mistakes in my life, you surely wouldn't think that I could somehow possibly screw up any worse - I mean, there was the time that I thought I would exchange my father's medication with sugar pills, not knowing he was diabetic, and that other time I coaxed my friends to have a water fight in the dead-ass middle of winter, but I try not to speak of those times. My father is okay now, by the way, and I served a good few months being grounded despite my ignorance to his health condition prior to the prank. But, anyways.

Some might say I have learned a lot, and I just so happen to agree with them, but I honestly don't think my own stupidity could really get me killed. Well, it might, but not like this. I tried to convince myself of this as I entered the living space of my dorm room with wrapped parcel stamped from eBay, which I picked up from the post a few hours ago after a well-deserved pit-stop at MacDonald's. My dorm-mate, Jordan - you know, that sleek business major with the smoothed back chestnut hair and semi-circle Dumbledore frames - gave me the most disapproving look I'd seen since I moved out of my parent's house.

"I thought you said you wouldn't buy that shit, Oliver?" Jordan frowned, adjusting his specs as he watched me.

I dumped the parcel in the middle of the floor and shrugged. "I mean, technically I did buy it, but it was a bid, man," I reasoned, turning to enter the adjoining kitchen. "I placed one bid before you nagged about hauntings and shit. I didn't expect to win it."

Jordan scowled in that disapproving way, reminiscent of my mother's. I felt kind of bad about it, the guy was really superstitious too,  and here I was bringing this damn board back here like a jerk. Though I knew I was going to top it all off and be an even bigger dick in just a moment, so I brushed off those guilty vibes and continued.

I scrounged through the kitchen cabinets, pulling out those little tealight candles you use in emergency power-outages, and then headed back to the parcel, but not before switching off the lights. I could hear Jordan groan, but I honestly was too hyped to give a shit now. Let me have my fun, Jordan.

"Right!" I said, slumping onto the floor and letting the little candles scatter about - I would deal with it in a moment. I grabbed the parcel, tearing it open as Jordan turned on the flashlight to his phone and sat across from me. Soon I had the parcel open, and was pulling out what felt to be a wooden board wrapped in a red cloth. There was no packaging or anything, just a strange red cloth that swaddled it. Nevertheless, I was smiling like a dork and unwrapping the cloth to reveal what was, in fact, a wooden playing board. It was not just any playing board.

"Oh, Jesus," Jordan grumbled, physically cringing away as I sat the Ouija Board on the floor between us.

"It looks in good condition," I mused, admiring the board as I fished the planchette from the confines of the cloth. I sat the planchette in the middle of the board, and threw the cloth over my shoulder before picking up one candle at a time and lighting them.

"This is so bad, Oliver, lets just stop?" Jordan whined, scooting further away with a sour look of distaste across his face. His lips curled back as though he just sucked on a lemon, and he tried his best not to even glance in the board's direction.

"C'mon, you don't believe this piece of crap would actually work?" I scoffed teasingly, lighting the last candle.

"Well, duh!" he retorted. "You're gonna bring something into our dorm and shit's gonna happen."

"What shit?" I asked, but quickly changed the subject. "So, how do I start this? Is there an 'On' switch or am I missing some magic words?" I scanned the area, shaking out the cloth and packaging before finding a small slip of paper with handwritten instructions on it. "Aha!"

"What is that?"

"It says: Move the planchette in a circle in the centre of the board three times, and then ask if anyone is present to speak to," I read aloud. "When you're finished, move the planchette to goodbye while telling the same to whatever spirits that have gathered. If you have done this successfully, the spirits will leave your home. Warning: do not play with the Ouija Board on your own, it is very dangerous."

Well, that was cool.

I picked up the planchette and turned it in my fingers.

"What are you doing?! You read it, it said you shouldn't play on your own!" Jordan nearly screamed.

I looked at him as if to say 'oh really?' and sat the planchette on the board. "I guess you better play to keep me safe then," I countered.

Jordan looked at me, mouth agape, and face beginning to drain of colour. "N-no!" he spluttered desperately. "N-no, Oliver, no. I-I-I-"

"Man, you and I both know I'm going to do this," I reasoned. "And you could, y'know, protect me and shit? I could get possessed if I did this on my own!" I was such a dick; I was playing him and we both knew it. I didn't believe in any of this paranormal bullshit, but at the same time I really wanted something to happen, and I didn't know if I could achieve that on my own. Despite his cowardice, Jordan was really into paranormal stuff, and I think that was why he was so terrified in the first place, but at the same time that was what made him the perfect guy to help me.

"I hate you," Jordan sighed, giving up and inching closer. He reached out and lightly rested his fingers on the planchette. "I hate you so much and you owe me big time."


	2. I Summoned The Devil In My Living Room

Around and around, I swivelled the planchette in a circle thrice as the ominous instructions recommended; Jordan’s fingers barely touched it, and he looked as if he just wanted to book it out of here. Once the spinning stopped, I cleared my throat, and asked. “Are there any dank spirits with us wanting to chat?”

I made sure my fingers lightly touched the planchette, and that it was in the centre of the board, and then waited for the magic to happen. Both of us had our eyes fixed on the board, waiting and wondering in the dark, illuminated by a bunch of dim tealight candles. The darkness was the only thing I hated about this, it seemed to amplify the spookiness of the situation and put us both on edge - not equally though, Jordan was a fucking pussy.

“Shh! What was that?” Jordan hissed, jumping out of his skin as a light thud echoed from somewhere in the dark.

“Probably the hou-”

I couldn’t get a word in before Jordan yelped. “Was that you? Did you just move that!”

I blinked. “What?”

“Don’t be dumb! You moved the planchette!” Jordan seemed to be on the verge of tears, but I ever so calmly shrugged and looked at the board.

“Sorry, man, I might have? I wasn’t paying attention,” I admitted shamelessly.

I had this nagging feeling that no matter what I did or said at this point, Jordan wouldn’t give two flying shits. He was freaked out and pissed, which meant that everything was automatically going to be my fault. Its okay though, this sort of lashed out anger was nostalgic. I guess I was a sucker for pain in that kind of way, especially seeing how I’d still cling on to Jordan - I didn’t have many friends, and it was surprising he stayed with me for so long - so it really wasn’t a surprise when he whacked me over the head and all I did was smile as the left side of my brow throbbed lightly.

A shift; this time I felt it. “Whoa.”

“Oliver!”

“Not me! I swear it was not me!” I gaped at the board, watching the little wooden planchette ever so slightly twitch forward in small jerking movements. It moved by small fractions, but we could both see it and feel it as it happened, and all we could do was watch.

Over a period of five minutes, the planchette finally moved up past the alphabet, before the thing ripped out from our fingertips to land on ‘ _ no’ _ .

_ Haha, very funny, Casper. _

“No?” Jordan asked, confused and hyperventilating, half-way transcended into a panic attack; a few tears had spilled down his cheeks at this point. I felt bad about it, but at the same time it was also really damn funny, it was hard not to laugh.

“No, like, not a spirit?” I suggested.

Our fingers weren’t even on the planchette this time as it slid across the board to  _ ‘yes’ _ . Jordan was in a full-blown panic now, but I was far too invested to pay attention to his blubbering baby-ass crying.

“Oh, that’s cool, that’s cool,” I nodded, not sure how to respond to the information I was given. This thing wasn’t a spirit - which, if I knew anything about paranormal stuff (which I doubted I knew anything) was that this was not a ghost or poltergeist or anything of the sort. “If you aren’t a spirit, what are you?”

To be honest, I was a little worried, because now I was faced with this planchette that moved unexplainably on its own in a dark room with my crying roommate and an ouija board. As it spelt out its origins, I took the moment to contemplate how long it has been since I last screwed up so bad.

_ L-U-C-I-F-E-R. _ Well… fuck me.

Apparently the only inteligent response I could give was. “Ha, prove it.” I realized what I said a little too late. Perhaps not as Jordan started screaming at me, calling me a moron, but as the planchette spelled out  _ ‘OK’ _ . I just want to say, I didn’t think this through, and from the bottom of my heart, this is really my bad.

What happened next had happened in a matter of moments, but to explain the gist of it in such minimal time to represent the shortness of the time is exceptionally hard, so just keep in mind that these next few events happened in a rapid succession of under a single second.

The flameslit upon the whick of the candles shot up and curved, igniting the ouija board in blue flames. White noise filled the room, becoming so loud that the windows simultaneously smashed, shattering inwards and spraying glass inside the house, causing use to cover our heads. Once it all stopped, it left us in pitch black darkness - a darkness that was darker than the night. Finally the candles re-lit themselves, and in the middle of Jordan and myself, where the ouija board ashes still lay, stood a man. I mean, he was kinda hot, and I didn’t even realize I swung that way before.

I stood up to get a better look, and I’ll tell you right now that I did not excpect this guy to look so arousing. He was clean and pristine with mighty horns and a twisted crown. His hair was white-blonde, curling down past his jawline, with eyes bluer than a cloudless sunny sky.

The man smiled down at me, his grin was glowing and set with fang-like teeth. “Is this enough proof for you, Oliver Maes?” he purred, voice rumbling out from his chest like a lion as he leaned down to stare me in the eye. In a blink, his visage turned demonic, but reverted before I could take anything in.

I stared at him a while longer, really soaking everything in. “Can I touch your horns?” Shut up, I was curious.

Lucifer seemed to be taken aback, but with slightly narrowed eyes inclined his head. “I suppose, if it means you’ll take my word that I am Lucifer.”

I was already convinced, but I still reached up and stroked the shaft of the horn, getting a feel of the texture and thickness. They both certainly felt like horns, although looking at Lucifer’s face, he appeared really uncomfortable with the whole thing, so I reluctantly stopped touching him and pulled my hand back.

“So, uh, what do we do now?” I looked around as I asked this, unsure where this was leading us. My eyes fell on Jordan - who I forgot about up until this point - the poor guy had crammed himself behind the sofa and was clutching his cross necklace like it was the end of the world. I mean, he may not have been too far off, seeing as Satan was in our living room.

“That is up to you,” Lucifer said.

“Do you grant wishes?”

“I- what?”

“Like a genie? Because I summoned you here basically, do I get a wish granted?” I asked, hopeful that maybe something good could come from such a situation.

“No,” he said. “But…” Lucifer pursed his lips in thought and rubbed his chin. “How about a game?”

I was intrigued.

“The game is simple: each of us must challenge the other to complete a task,” he explained. “You must win all three rounds to beat me, if there is a draw, no one wins and I return to Hell.”

“And what happens if I lose?”

“You will die.”


End file.
